The Interlude
by pallasphoenix
Summary: Sequel to "The Scandal". Cara and Kahlan narrate the last ten years after their wedding.


**The Interlude**

_Being the third part in "The Choice" series._

. . .

_The First Five Years_

Being married to the Mother Confessor is both a blessing and a sin. For one thing, I belong to whom I think is the most beautiful woman alive. Kahlan and I love each other very much, and I am always happy to be with her, in more ways than just marriage if you know what I mean. The downside to belonging to Kahlan is her duty. Sure, it is amusing to sit in on her copious meetings and watch her shoot down everyone's various opinions and ideas, and I absolutely love to see Kahlan take control of a situation.

Her work gets in the way sometimes, though. More often than not, Kahlan has to go away for a while, and she cannot bring me along sometimes because I frighten people. Now that I've grown back my long braid, people outside of the palace seem terrified to even come near me. Kahlan lets me come along sometimes, but not every time. When she goes away, it is like a part of me is missing. I feel strange when I wake up and she isn't lying next to me, her lovely blue eyes not there to greet me. Still, she comes back eventually. That's when I am happiest.

A few years after we got married, Kahlan finally agreed to take a mate. I was ecstatic, because I was ready to raise a child with this wonderful woman. I had a feeling that Kahlan would be an excellent mother, and I ended up being right. Kahlan took her time choosing a mate, picking a man that was sweet tempered and wasn't very handsome. I think that she did that for me, so I wouldn't feel jealous, but she denies it to this very day.

The night she decided to create our child she came into the spare room where I was, a thin nightgown the only thing between her bare flesh and me. We kissed for a while, she was sitting on my lap, and Kahlan was beginning to feel relaxed. After a while, I asked her if she was ready for me to leave. She said no, holding onto me for dear life. I remember thinking she was being childish, that I thought she wanted this, but I knew where she was coming from. I sat with her for another hour, caressing her and holding her to me. I can't remember when I left, but later that night I felt Kahlan slip into our bed with me, her arms closing in around my waist. I smiled lightly and pretended to be asleep, knowing that she needed time alone.

I suppose Kahlan changed me that way. I never used to be concerned with the feelings of others.

A few weeks later Kahlan began to get violently sick, constantly running to the washroom to vomit into a wooden bucket. I sat with her while she emptied the contents of her stomach, I held her hair until the feeling had passed. After a week or so of this, we decided to ask Zedd if Kahlan was really with child. I could see the joy in Kahlan's eyes when our hypothesis was confirmed, and I was terribly excited that we would be having a little girl in our lives in a matter of months.

As Kahlan's stomach grew larger, we began to talk about names for our little girl. Some family names were suggested, but neither of us wanted our daughter named after someone else. We wanted her to be unique. In our spare time, when we weren't caught up doing anything of great importance, we talked about how we thought our baby would look. Kahlan had chosen a mate that had similar attributes to mine, he had golden locks and green eyes. I still felt a little sad, because I knew that this child would not be both of us. Kahlan assured me that it didn't matter, because our daughter would have both of us as mothers.

It was in the summer months when Kahlan began to reach her due date. The baby would be coming soon, and to be honest, I was scared out of my mind. Mord'Sith were supposed to have no fear, so why was I terrified at the thought of our baby being born? I suppose it was because I had no clue as to what to do with a baby. Kahlan seemed to be alright, but I didn't know the first thing about caring for a child. I suppose it was the fear of the unknown that had gripped me so tightly in those days.

Some nights Kahlan couldn't sleep because the baby would be kicking inside her. I felt sympathy towards her, so I stayed up with Kahlan and held my hand over her stomach, my beautiful wife moving my hand to where she felt our daughter kick.

One night, a week before our daughter came into the world, Kahlan quickly took my hand and held it to her stomach. I felt our baby inside her, and I laughed. I told her that that was our daughter, Callia. I remember Kahlan asking me to repeat what I had said, and I did. She laughed and asked me how I knew what our baby would be named. I told her she seemed like someone who would be named Callia. Kahlan smiled at me, telling me that we could name our daughter that, before sleep overtook her.

Kahlan and I were taking a walk in the courtyard when she told me that our baby was coming. I remember that I lifted her into my arms and carried her back into the palace, although she kept saying she could walk. It didn't matter, I wanted to make sure she was safe. I held Kahlan's hand through every painful contraction, telling her that it would be okay, that it would be worth it once we saw our daughter. I also asked her about the pain, wondering how much it hurt. Kahlan yelled at me for that, saying that it was a bad time to be asking those sorts of questions. I knew she didn't mean to yell, it just hurts a lot to have a child. When our baby finally came, Kahlan said I could hold her first.

I was the first person to ever hold Callia. That meant a lot to me. That made up for not being our child's biological parent.

Callia had deep azure eyes when she was born, with small tufts of dark hair on her large, newborn head. I cried when I first held our daughter, it was one of the happiest days of my life. When Kahlan and I put her to sleep that night, I stayed beside her crib through until the sun rose to start the new day. Kahlan laughed at me, telling me that we had to leave our child on it's own or it wouldn't be independent. I didn't care, though. I loved watching my little girl sleep.

After a few days, Kahlan was delighted to see that Callia's eyes had changed to a light green color, somewhat like mine. I was happy as well, pretending like this child was a part of me too.

When Callia was a few months old, Kahlan and I were discussing what Callia would call us. Obviously we couldn't go with the usual titles that other parents had, Mommy and Daddy. As we played with Callia in the grass outside the palace, Kahlan said that she wanted our daughter to call her Mommy. Kahlan's face lit up when I said I wanted to be called Mother. She told me it was too formal, and plus it would be incredibly hard for the baby to say. I didn't care, though. I didn't want to be called Momma or anything. That was boring.

Callia's first word was Mommy, which was fine with me. I didn't care that she said Mommy easier than Mother. Kahlan, of course, was ecstatic. She carried Callia around all day to show the cooks and others working at the palace that our daughter could say Mommy. They were all excited as well.

When Callia was three, it was like she was an entirely different child. She seemed more outgoing, bumping into walls as she walked and touching everything she could get her tiny hands on. At first, I was frustrated. Kahlan has always been more patient than I, softly telling Callia 'no' and taking the stolen item out of our daughter's grabbing hands. One afternoon, though, it was the scariest day of our lives.

As always, I was getting dressed in my leathers. Callia wasn't scared of my brutal appearance, in fact she always liked to touch the buckles on my legs or feel how smooth my deep red leather was. She always loved to play with my long braid, sometimes pretending I was a horse, and my braid was the reign. She would shriek, "Mudder, Mudder! Play horsey!" Of course, I would play along and get her to climb on my back as I shuffled around on all fours until Kahlan found us, scooping Callia up and peppering her chubby face with kisses.

Without thinking, I had put my Agiels on the bed next to Callia, going out of the room to ask Kahlan something. When I turned back to my daughter she was already in the motion of touching one of my Agiels. Before I could reach her, Callia grabbed one of the painful weapons, dark veins sprouting from her small hands. Immediately, I took the Agiel out of my screaming daughter's hand, trying to soothe her by picking her up and resting her head on my shoulder. Callia screamed for several minutes before asking me, "Mudder, why does those hurt?" I told her that she should never touch them. Then she asked why I had them, and I looked over to a distraught Kahlan standing at the door, her blue eyes tearing up. I told Callia that I had them to protect her and Mommy from bad men. Then she asked the question that made me hand her to my wife and walk out.

"Mudder, why do you hurt people with those?"

I didn't want to answer my sweet, innocent child, I couldn't. After that, Callia never asked me questions about my Agiels or my leathers until she was much older. Old enough to know the truth about what her mommies had done before they became a family. Not that I am ashamed of the things I have done, but I feel as though I don't want to tell Callia for fear of her hating me or becoming frightened of me.

It was on Callia's fifth birthday when she first confessed someone. She didn't mean to, it was just that she was very excited. I didn't know much about Confessors, but Kahlan said that powers manifest when the girl is between three and six summer's old. Callia was excited about a cake that one of the palace cooks was making, and being only five she was cutely clapping her hands together and saying thank you to the kind woman. Callia was never a rude or unpleasant child.

Kahlan was out getting everything ready for Callia's birthday celebration, so I was watching our daughter. A servant came over to me and asked something about what food the Mother Confessor wanted, and I turned away from my dark haired daughter for only a moment. In that moment, though, I heard someone shriek and drop a bowl. I whipped around, Agiels at the ready, to see Callia's small hand on a cook's leg, her green eyes black as a starless night. I holstered the screaming weapons and immediately ran to my daughter, but I pulled my reaching hands back when I realized holding Callia would assure my sudden demise. I wasn't immune to Callia's magic like I was to her mother's. When Callia's eyes returned to their original hue I grabbed her and held her small body in my arms before she went limp. Not even checking to see if the woman was alright, I held my daughter tightly to my chest and ran. I ran and ran and ran until I found Kahlan, Callia still unconscious in my arms. When she saw me she was alarmed, but when she saw Callia she began to cry. She immediately took her from my arms, and she asked what had happened. I told her everything as she cried, I rubbed her back until Callia awoke. She asked me if I touched her, and I said no. She was slightly relieved at that.

I didn't come with Kahlan, because she said she needed to walk with Callia alone. After an hour or so my wife came back with our daughter, the two holding hands. Callia was laughing, pointing up at a bird in the sky. I will never forget the distant look on Kahlan's face as she told me to take Callia until the celebration. That was a hard day for Kahlan.

I loved my girls, though. I used to hear stories that the serving women would say around the palace, stories of how after their children and a few years of marriage their husbands no longer loved them like they used to, never took them to bed all that often. I would laugh to myself upon hearing these women, because I believe that my love for Kahlan never wavered. In fact, it grew stronger when Callia came to us. I have never lost that driving passion to be by Kahlan's side constantly, I never grow tired of waking up next to her each morning. I suppose it's because we went through so much to be together, that we decided nothing could ever separate us. Spending the rest of my days with the Mother Confessor will be a blessing.

. . .

_The Last Five Years_

Marrying Cara and having a daughter were the best things that have ever happened to me. It was as if nothing could phase me when I was with my family, not like that has changed from back then to nowadays. I love every smile Cara gives me, every touch we share. We've grown so much closer, grown so mature over the years, that it's not that difficult to love Cara more and more everyday. Our daughter, Callia, is truly a blessing. I was so happy when she finally came into the world, with her dark hair and blue eyes, she looked so much like me. I could see the look in Cara's eyes when I was pregnant, though, she would grow distant at the thought of Callia not being her biological child. But when I told Cara that she could be the first to hold our newborn daughter, an inseparable bond was created between mother and daughter. When Callia's eyes turned a light green very similar to Cara's own, I was so excited to show her. I still remember the ecstatic look on her face, the big smile she had on when she saw that Callia looked a little like the both of us.

I remember the day Callia turned five like it was yesterday. It has been very difficult to forget.

I was putting the finishing touches on Callia's birthday celebration, making sure everything was perfect. I wanted the best for my daughter, and I had asked Cara to keep Callia distracted while I talked to the musicians and jesters. After a few minutes of leaving and walking in the courtyard, Cara bursts through the doors holding a limp Callia in her arms. My wife, of course, had tears in her eyes. A million thoughts went through my head, the worst was thinking Callia was dead. But from the look in Cara's bright green eyes, I immediately knew what happened. I always knew this day would come.

When Cara explained what happened, I remember taking Callia for a walk around the palace. I told her that she and I had special powers, powers that she couldn't use on people around the palace. I told her she had to be very careful when she touched people, because her power would make those people different. When Callia asked how, I wiped a tear from my eye and told her that her magic made them follow her wherever she went, asking what they could do to please her. Callia took everything in, nodding as she listened to me. Callia is a very smart child.

I also told her that people called she and I Confessors, and that I was the Mother Confessor. I smiled a bit when Callia asked if that was because I was her Mommy. I told her that she could only use her powers when I told her, and that I would help her to control them so she couldn't confess anyone else. I knew that this was a lot for a five-year-old child, but that was the life of a Confessor. She told me that Mudder was crying lots when she 'confess-ed' the cook, and she asked why. I told her that Mudder didn't know a lot about people like she and I, and Mudder didn't know what to do. Callia nodded her head, her dark curls bouncing up and down. Then she asked if I ever confessed someone, and I told her only bad people who were trying to hurt others. I didn't want to tell her all that being a Confessor entailed just yet.

I also had to tell Callia about never ever touching Mudder when she felt like she was going to use her powers. When she asked why, I had to bite my lip to hold back the tears. I told her that her powers have a bad effect on people like Mudder. Callia began to cry when I told her that if she used her magic on Mudder, then Mudder would not be with us anymore. That was also the time I explained death to Callia.

I held my daughter close to me until she stopped crying, and I told her that we would work together so that she could control her magic to touch her Mudder and others again. Callia nodded and I held out my hand, but the toddler frowned and backed away from me. I apologized, telling her that she couldn't confess me. Nodding wordlessly, Callia and I returned to her party.

Callia didn't have full control of her powers until she six. Cara was upset when I told her she couldn't hold Callia until I knew it was okay. She threw a few chairs, broke a vase or two, she screamed and cursed a lot. She knew the reason behind all of it, but I suppose she didn't know what to do with all that emotion. It was too much for her, not being able to hug or hold your daughter without fear of death. Callia kept telling Cara not to worry, because she would work very hard with Mommy so they could hug and read bedtime stories together again. It pained me deeply to see Cara and Callia apart, but I couldn't bear the thought of loosing Cara. I still can't bear the thought of loosing her. It would rip my soul apart.

The day that Callia had control of her powers, I didn't tell Cara. Callia told me she wanted it to be a surprise. Cara was sitting outside, her legs crossed, and her green eyes closed. I suppose she didn't hear Callia shuffle through the grass and bend down behind her. I remember the look on Cara's face when Callia hugged her from behind, her small arms wrapped around her mother's neck. Cara immediately whirled around and hugged Callia, standing up and squeezing her daughter tightly. She was crying and kissing Callia on the head, laughing while doing all this. I couldn't help but laugh as well, Cara coming over to me and hugging me as well, with Callia in the middle of us. We both laughed when Callia shouted "Mommy sandwich!". That was a good day.

After Callia gained control over her powers, Cara and I decided it was time to begin her education. Luckily, we had a certain wizard to help us out with that. Zedd would take Callia up to the Wizard's Keep for hours a day, teaching her about magic and geography of the Midlands and beyond. When the unlikely pair came back to the castle for dinner each evening, Cara and I would grill our daughter for details on what Zedd was telling her. Every time, though, she would say that grandfather told her not to tell her mommies anything. Cara would always scowl at Zedd until Callia laughed, and then at that point they all would laugh and then return to their evening meals.

I have to admit, Cara looks even fiercer with her hair grown out into a long, blonde braid. Callia has never been afraid of her, though. I always felt sympathy for Cara when she would come back from a market trip with Callia and our curious daughter would ask why everyone would shout mean things at Mudder. I told her that they shouted at her mother because they were jealous of her. Callia believed that to be the truth in those days.

When Callia was fast asleep at night, Cara and I would sit out on the balcony outside our room like we used to. On those nights when the stars dusted the sky, Cara and I would dance and laugh and talk until the sun filtered through the trees. It's as if Callia brought us closer together, because we are almost joined at the hip. If it were anyone else constantly wanting to touch me, to hold my hand, to look at me, I would have turned on him or her faster than a fox on a tasty rabbit. But it was Cara. She was the exception to everything in my life.

Marrying Cara Mason was the best thing I have ever agreed to.


End file.
